


Homeomorphic, mouse, noir: a story in Zoe's voice

by knitmeapony



Category: Firefly
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitmeapony/pseuds/knitmeapony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick-fic written for the prompt "Homeomorphic, fic, noir, Zoe Washburne" by Bethfish.</p><p>From the diary of Zoe Washburne</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homeomorphic, mouse, noir: a story in Zoe's voice

Trouble with me and the cap bein' together wasn't that we were like brother and sister, nor father and daughter, comrades in arms. It was all incestuous, but that wasn't the thing. Not nearly.

Trouble was, you shuffle us up a little, you put me in his life or him in mine, we end up the same place. Trouble was, it isn't right sleeping with yourself.

Trade farm for city, twist up a point or two for where fathers do or don't die, twist up another for where that is or ain't a good thing. Maybe you look at why we joined the war. He had some thing on about freedom for all. I just wanted freedom for me, 'til I met him.

Neither one of us was shy a bit, took what we needed when things got in the way. Men, not mice, if you'll pardon the expression. Took Cacey under my wing early, I did, when he started eatin' beans in the middle of things. He and I slipped into bed neat as can be 'til he got shot.

Make me into Mal, you gotta take away Cacey, twist up another bit where he don't sleep at all for ninty six hours and change. Make it so he passes out amidfield and someone else has to carry him. Make it so that's when Cacey dies. Make him think he hurt me some.

He doesn't know, though, that he didn't. Try and convince him he doesn't and you shift the landscape. You make him like me. Don't want to do that to a man. Isn't right. So I let him be, let him go. Things got darker.

Thousands of men down to two. How do you get a man out of black that dark? How do you show him what he did was what got you through? You just explain things to him, plain as day. I was becoming him because it got me through. It got us through.

He'll tell you not to, but you can't help it. He'll push and pull and cry and when you find something that opens you up, makes you even more like him, he'll fight it. That's why he never took to me and Wash, why he didn't like the way I changed around him. There was me smiling and laughing, and it wasn't that he didn't want me happy. I knew 'nough about this and that to see right through that face. He wanted me happy but as me, keeping it all in, not getting drawn out, not arms 'round a person and open and face forward ready to show the world how I feel.

He took to Wash, in the end. Saw I was still another girl, saw I wasn't him, saw things for the better. It was a bit of the worse when Wash went on, since I got a bit like him again.

Poor man doesn't see.

So that's why I'll never be with the Captain, easy as that. He's what I ought to be, an' he pushes me elsewhere. It's like the devil on my shoulder. It's like the angel.

I don't want to end up with me.


End file.
